I sat alone in the quiet of my room, watching the morning light slip through the wooden cracks of the window. The world outside stirred gently—birds singing, footsteps crunching in the snow, life moving on like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Inside me.
At first, I thought it was just exhaustion. My body had been aching for days. My moods swung like a door left unlatched. But it was more than tiredness. Something deeper. Something steady.
A pulse.
Not mine.
I pressed my palm to my lower belly, unsure of what I was even feeling.
Then it hit me.
I didn't need a healer to tell me. I knew.
I was pregnant.
I stood up slowly, the weight of the truth anchoring my steps. My breath caught in my throat, and I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself.
A child.
Darius's child.
The memory of our last fight came rushing back like a tide I couldn't stop—his silence, the scent of another female on him, the distance in his eyes. The betrayal.
My heart twisted.
